Ùrachadh mu Dheireadh 21/09/2017
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TIOTAL
'The Highland Emigrant'
EXTERNAL ID
AB_LL_ALEXANDER_SMITH_11
SGÌRE
An t-Eilean Sgitheanach
SIORRACHD/PARRAIST
INBHIR NIS
DEIT
2008
LINN
2000an
CRUTHADAIR
Alexander Smith
NEACH-FIOSRACHAIDH
Am Baile
AITHNEACHADH MAOINE
1239
KEYWORDS
claistinneach
cruthan-tìre litreachais

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Tha a' chuibhreann chlaistinneach seo o 'A Summer in Skye' le Alexander Smith, foillsichte an 1865. Tha e air a leughadh an seo le Tormod Newton.

'When the Landlord had ceased speaking, a boy brought the post-bag and laid it on the gravel. It was opened and we got our letters - the Landlord a number of Indian ones. These he put into his coat pocket. One he tore open and read.

'Hillo, Pen!' he cried, when he got to the end, 'my emigrants are to be at Skeabost on Thursday; we must go over to see them.'

Then he marched into the house and in a little time thereafter our smoking parliament dissolved, but I sat alone, musing on emigration and how it is viewed.

The English emigrant is prosaic; Highland and Irish emigrants are poetical. How is this? The wild-rose lanes of England, I would think, are as bitter to part from and as worthy to be remembered at the antipodes, as the wild coasts of Skye or the green hills of Ireland. Yet poet and painter turn a cold shoulder on the English emigrant, while they expend infinite pathos on the emigrants from Erin or the Highlands. The Highlander has his 'Lochaber-no-more' and the Irishman has the Countess of Gifford's pretty song. The ship in the offing and the parting of Highland emigrants on the sea-shore, have been made the subject of innumerable paintings; and yet there is a sufficient reason for it all.

Rightly or wrongly, it is popularly understood that the English emigrant is not mightily moved by regret when he beholds the shores that gave him birth withdrawing themselves into the dimness of the far horizon - although, if true, why should it be so? and, if false, how has it crept into the common belief? are questions not easy to answer. If the Englishman is obtuse and indifferent in this respect, the Highlander is not. He finds it as difficult to part from the faces of the familiar hills as from the faces of his neighbours. In the land of his adoption he cherishes the language, the games and the songs of his childhood; and he thinks with a continual sadness of the gray-green slopes of Lochaber and the thousand leagues of dim, heart-breaking sea tossing between them and him.

The Celt clings to his birthplace, as the ivy nestles lovingly to its wall; the Saxon is like the arrowy seeds of the dandelion, that travel on the wind and strike root afar. Emigration is more painful to the Highlander than it is to the Englishman - this, poet and painter have instinctively felt - and in wandering up and down Skye I come into contact with this pain, either fresh or in reminiscence, not unfrequently. Although the member of his family be years removed, the Skyeman lives in him imaginatively - just as the man who has endured an operation is for ever conscious of the removed limb.

And this horror of emigration - common to the entire Highlands - has been increased by the fact that it has not unfrequently been a forceful matter, that potent landlords have torn down houses and turned out the inhabitants, have authorised evictions, have deported the dwellers of entire glens. That the landlords so acting have not been without grounds of justification may, in all probability, be true. The deported villagers may have been cumberers of the ground, they may have been unable to pay rent, they may have been slowly but surely sinking into pauperism, their prospect of securing a comfortable subsistence in the colonies may be considerable, while in their own glens it may be nil - all this may be true: but to have your house unroofed before your eyes and made to go on board a ship bound for Canada, even lthough the passage-money be paid for you, is not pleasant. An obscure sense of wrong is kindled in heart and brain. It is just possible that what is for the landlord's interest may be for yours also in the long run; but you feel that the landlord has looked after his own interest in the first place. He wished you away and he has got you away; whether you will succeed in Canada is a matter of dubiety. The human gorge rises at this kind of forceful banishment - more particularly the gorge of the banished!'

Rinn Alexander Smith, no Alasdair Mac a' Ghobhainn, tòrr obair sgrìobhaidh de bhàrdachd is de dh'aistean ann am meadhan linn Bhictoria, ach ged a rinn, cha do choisinn e an cliù ris a bha e a' strì.

Rugadh Mac a' Ghobhainn ann an Dùn Èideann an 31mh Dùbhlachd 1829 agus rinn e fèin-fhoghlam, a' leantainn athar na cheàrd le aodach fighte, gus an deach cruinneachadh bàrdachd aige fhoillseachadh ann an 1853. Bha seo air nochdadh an toiseach san iris 'The Critic' fon ainm 'A Life Drama'. Chaidh a mholadh gu mòr le muinntir litreachas Alba agus choisinn a bhàrdachd dha dreuchd ann an 1854 mar Rùnaire Oilthigh Dhùin Èidinn.

An dèidh foillseachadh 'Poems' (1853), rinn Smith co-obair còmhla ri Sydney Dobell air pìosan caran rabhdach air Cogadh a' Chrimea, 'Sonnets on the War' (1855). Tharraing seo càineadh thuige agus ann an 'City Poems' (1857) dh'fheuch e ris an dreach sgrìobhaidh aige a thogail, a' sgrìobhadh cuid den obair a b' fheàrr a rinn e. Gu mì-fhortanach, nuair a chuir cuid dhaoine às a leth gun do ghoid e pàirt dhen obair, tharraing seo barrachd dhroch bheachdan sgrìobhte air obair.

Phòs Alexander Smith Flòraidh NicDhòmhnaill, tè aig an robh càirdeas fad às don tè a thug cobhair don Phrionnsa Teàrlach, aig Taigh an Ùird san Eilean Sgitheanach ann an 1857. Thill iad dhan Eilean a h-uile Lùnastal fad naoi bliadhna gus an tug am fiabhras ballach bàs dha an 5mh Faoillich 1867. Bha e a' fulang le droch shlàinte fad an dà bhliadhna mu dheireadh de a bheatha agus bha e gu math truagh nuair a ghlac e am fiabhras ballach.

Thuirt Simon Berry, san 'Oxford Dictionary of National Biography' (2004):

The annual month's retreat on Skye allowed his psychological defences
against urban pressures to be lowered. His creative, dionysian side fed
on the unpredictable and irrational features of the island: the sudden
contrasts of storm and calm, the semi-surrealistic mountain shapes and
colours, the superstitions and fantastic tales of its inhabitants. All these
went into 'A Summer in Skye', making it a fascinating hotchpotch of
travelogue and speculation with no obvious models. In the same way
as Scott's poetry had drawn visitors to Perthshire earlier in the century,
so Smith's work (allied to the growth in the railway network) benefited
the west highland tourist trade.

Chaidh 'A Summer in Skye' a chlò-bhualadh dà uair o chionn ghoirid, ann an dreach a bha deasaichte agus gu math nas giorra, ach tha bàrdachd Alexander Smith fhathast a' feitheamh ach an lorg leughadairean an là an-diugh e.

Tha ro-ràdh feumail san ath-chlobhualadh gheàrrte o 1983 de 'A Summer in Skye' le Uilleam F. Laughlan. Tha air aithris an sin gur e athair-cèile Smith, Teàrlach MacDhòmhnaill, 'MacIain an Ùird' agus gur e Coinneach MacLeòid Ghrìsinnis 'an t-Uachdaran', ach cha deach caractaran eile a tha a' nochdadh san obair an aithneachadh fhathast.

Airson stiùireadh mu bhith a’ cleachdadh ìomhaighean agus susbaint eile, faicibh duilleag ‘Na Cumhaichean air Fad.’
’S e companaidh cuibhrichte fo bharantas clàraichte ann an Alba Àir. SC407011 agus carthannas clàraichte Albannach Àir. SC042593 a th’ ann an High Life na Gàidhealtachd.
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'The Highland Emigrant'

INBHIR NIS

2000an

claistinneach; cruthan-tìre litreachais

Am Baile

Literary Landscapes: Alexander Smith

Tha a' chuibhreann chlaistinneach seo o 'A Summer in Skye' le Alexander Smith, foillsichte an 1865. Tha e air a leughadh an seo le Tormod Newton.<br /> <br /> 'When the Landlord had ceased speaking, a boy brought the post-bag and laid it on the gravel. It was opened and we got our letters - the Landlord a number of Indian ones. These he put into his coat pocket. One he tore open and read.<br /> <br /> 'Hillo, Pen!' he cried, when he got to the end, 'my emigrants are to be at Skeabost on Thursday; we must go over to see them.'<br /> <br /> Then he marched into the house and in a little time thereafter our smoking parliament dissolved, but I sat alone, musing on emigration and how it is viewed.<br /> <br /> The English emigrant is prosaic; Highland and Irish emigrants are poetical. How is this? The wild-rose lanes of England, I would think, are as bitter to part from and as worthy to be remembered at the antipodes, as the wild coasts of Skye or the green hills of Ireland. Yet poet and painter turn a cold shoulder on the English emigrant, while they expend infinite pathos on the emigrants from Erin or the Highlands. The Highlander has his 'Lochaber-no-more' and the Irishman has the Countess of Gifford's pretty song. The ship in the offing and the parting of Highland emigrants on the sea-shore, have been made the subject of innumerable paintings; and yet there is a sufficient reason for it all.<br /> <br /> Rightly or wrongly, it is popularly understood that the English emigrant is not mightily moved by regret when he beholds the shores that gave him birth withdrawing themselves into the dimness of the far horizon - although, if true, why should it be so? and, if false, how has it crept into the common belief? are questions not easy to answer. If the Englishman is obtuse and indifferent in this respect, the Highlander is not. He finds it as difficult to part from the faces of the familiar hills as from the faces of his neighbours. In the land of his adoption he cherishes the language, the games and the songs of his childhood; and he thinks with a continual sadness of the gray-green slopes of Lochaber and the thousand leagues of dim, heart-breaking sea tossing between them and him.<br /> <br /> The Celt clings to his birthplace, as the ivy nestles lovingly to its wall; the Saxon is like the arrowy seeds of the dandelion, that travel on the wind and strike root afar. Emigration is more painful to the Highlander than it is to the Englishman - this, poet and painter have instinctively felt - and in wandering up and down Skye I come into contact with this pain, either fresh or in reminiscence, not unfrequently. Although the member of his family be years removed, the Skyeman lives in him imaginatively - just as the man who has endured an operation is for ever conscious of the removed limb.<br /> <br /> And this horror of emigration - common to the entire Highlands - has been increased by the fact that it has not unfrequently been a forceful matter, that potent landlords have torn down houses and turned out the inhabitants, have authorised evictions, have deported the dwellers of entire glens. That the landlords so acting have not been without grounds of justification may, in all probability, be true. The deported villagers may have been cumberers of the ground, they may have been unable to pay rent, they may have been slowly but surely sinking into pauperism, their prospect of securing a comfortable subsistence in the colonies may be considerable, while in their own glens it may be nil - all this may be true: but to have your house unroofed before your eyes and made to go on board a ship bound for Canada, even lthough the passage-money be paid for you, is not pleasant. An obscure sense of wrong is kindled in heart and brain. It is just possible that what is for the landlord's interest may be for yours also in the long run; but you feel that the landlord has looked after his own interest in the first place. He wished you away and he has got you away; whether you will succeed in Canada is a matter of dubiety. The human gorge rises at this kind of forceful banishment - more particularly the gorge of the banished!'<br /> <br /> Rinn Alexander Smith, no Alasdair Mac a' Ghobhainn, tòrr obair sgrìobhaidh de bhàrdachd is de dh'aistean ann am meadhan linn Bhictoria, ach ged a rinn, cha do choisinn e an cliù ris a bha e a' strì.<br /> <br /> Rugadh Mac a' Ghobhainn ann an Dùn Èideann an 31mh Dùbhlachd 1829 agus rinn e fèin-fhoghlam, a' leantainn athar na cheàrd le aodach fighte, gus an deach cruinneachadh bàrdachd aige fhoillseachadh ann an 1853. Bha seo air nochdadh an toiseach san iris 'The Critic' fon ainm 'A Life Drama'. Chaidh a mholadh gu mòr le muinntir litreachas Alba agus choisinn a bhàrdachd dha dreuchd ann an 1854 mar Rùnaire Oilthigh Dhùin Èidinn.<br /> <br /> An dèidh foillseachadh 'Poems' (1853), rinn Smith co-obair còmhla ri Sydney Dobell air pìosan caran rabhdach air Cogadh a' Chrimea, 'Sonnets on the War' (1855). Tharraing seo càineadh thuige agus ann an 'City Poems' (1857) dh'fheuch e ris an dreach sgrìobhaidh aige a thogail, a' sgrìobhadh cuid den obair a b' fheàrr a rinn e. Gu mì-fhortanach, nuair a chuir cuid dhaoine às a leth gun do ghoid e pàirt dhen obair, tharraing seo barrachd dhroch bheachdan sgrìobhte air obair.<br /> <br /> Phòs Alexander Smith Flòraidh NicDhòmhnaill, tè aig an robh càirdeas fad às don tè a thug cobhair don Phrionnsa Teàrlach, aig Taigh an Ùird san Eilean Sgitheanach ann an 1857. Thill iad dhan Eilean a h-uile Lùnastal fad naoi bliadhna gus an tug am fiabhras ballach bàs dha an 5mh Faoillich 1867. Bha e a' fulang le droch shlàinte fad an dà bhliadhna mu dheireadh de a bheatha agus bha e gu math truagh nuair a ghlac e am fiabhras ballach.<br /> <br /> Thuirt Simon Berry, san 'Oxford Dictionary of National Biography' (2004):<br /> <br /> The annual month's retreat on Skye allowed his psychological defences<br /> against urban pressures to be lowered. His creative, dionysian side fed<br /> on the unpredictable and irrational features of the island: the sudden<br /> contrasts of storm and calm, the semi-surrealistic mountain shapes and<br /> colours, the superstitions and fantastic tales of its inhabitants. All these<br /> went into 'A Summer in Skye', making it a fascinating hotchpotch of<br /> travelogue and speculation with no obvious models. In the same way<br /> as Scott's poetry had drawn visitors to Perthshire earlier in the century,<br /> so Smith's work (allied to the growth in the railway network) benefited<br /> the west highland tourist trade.<br /> <br /> Chaidh 'A Summer in Skye' a chlò-bhualadh dà uair o chionn ghoirid, ann an dreach a bha deasaichte agus gu math nas giorra, ach tha bàrdachd Alexander Smith fhathast a' feitheamh ach an lorg leughadairean an là an-diugh e. <br /> <br /> Tha ro-ràdh feumail san ath-chlobhualadh gheàrrte o 1983 de 'A Summer in Skye' le Uilleam F. Laughlan. Tha air aithris an sin gur e athair-cèile Smith, Teàrlach MacDhòmhnaill, 'MacIain an Ùird' agus gur e Coinneach MacLeòid Ghrìsinnis 'an t-Uachdaran', ach cha deach caractaran eile a tha a' nochdadh san obair an aithneachadh fhathast.